For the Roses (56 page)

She became more and more frightened of what was happening to her. She kept remembering what Harrison had said to her when they spent the night in the cave near Corrie's home. They'd been talking about honor and integrity at the time, and she recalled his exact words. If you begin to give away parts of yourself, eventually you'll give it all. And once you've lost yourself, haven't you lost everything?

The words haunted her.

It wasn't possible for her to keep up her pretence forever. Two incidents sent her world careening. The first happened quite by accident. She was pacing back and forth in the entryway, waiting for the mail to be delivered, when Eleanor came hurrying down the stairs.

"I have wonderful news, Victoria," she cried out. "Lady Lillian wants me to become her assistant. She likes me, really likes me, and thinks my organizational skills are just what she needs. She leads such a busy life. She's needed someone to help her for a long time. Do you know what else she told me? She's going to help me find a husband. She will too. Your Aunt Lillian can do anything she sets her mind to. She told me I was like a daughter to her. Yes, she did. Isn't it all wonderful?" Mary Rose wasn't surprised by the news. She wanted to be happy for her friend. Eleanor had had a difficult past. She'd never known her own mother, and Aunt Lillian hadn't had any children. They were two lonely people who could help each other.

"It is joyful news, indeed," she told her friend. "Does this mean you'll never want to go back to…America?" She'd almost asked her if she had made up her mind not to go back to Montana, but quickly changed her mind.

"There isn't anything in America for me, Victoria."

"What about Cole? Didn't you care about him?"

Eleanor took hold of Mary Rose's hand and smiled at her. "I'll never forget him. How could I? He gave me my very first kiss. He won't ever marry me though, and I'm grateful I found out he wasn't the marrying kind before I gave my heart to him. Besides, we really don't have anything in common. I'm much better suited to life here, Victoria. So are you," she added with a nod. Mary Rose ignored her last comment. "I'll miss you."

Eleanor frowned. "Miss me? You aren't going anywhere, and we're always going to remain fast friends. Do you know I'm accepted by your friends because of who you are? You're Lady Victoria, for heaven's sake. Why, just look at yourself in the mirror. You have become your father's daughter all right. No one could ever know you didn't grow up here. I'm so proud of you. Your aunt's proud of you too. She loves you with all her heart. Honestly, she does. I must run now. There's so much to do today in preparation for our move."

Mary Rose watched her friend hurry back up the stairs. Edward walked into the entryway then. She was thankful the younger butler was in attendance today and not her father's other "man" as he was called. Russell, the senior staff member, had been in Elliott's employ much longer, and she knew it wouldn't be as easy to get information out of him.

"Edward, may I have a word with you? In confidence," she added so he would know she wouldn't tell anyone about the conversation. "I need to know something. Has my Aunt Lillian been intercepting my letters from home?"

Edward's complexion visibly paled. "No, Lady Victoria, she hasn't."

She was going to have to accept what he said as fact, she supposed. She nodded, then turned to go up the stairs. She stopped suddenly when Edward blurted out, "They only have your best interests at heart, mi'lady, especially Lord Elliott."

She slowly turned around. "My father's been taking my letters, hasn't he?" He didn't answer her but turned his gaze to the floor. She thought his silence damning. "I thought it was my aunt," she whispered. Her voice sounded bewildered. "I don't know why, but I never considered my father would do… How long has it been going on?"

"From the beginning," he answered in a low voice.

"And the letters I wrote to my brothers and left on the hall table to be posted? Did he intercept those too?"

Edward looked into the drawing room to make certain they weren't being overheard, then answered her.

"Yes, but you had already figured everything out, hadn't you? I'm not being disloyal by confirming your suspicions, am I?"

"No, you aren't being disloyal."

"Your father was only following the physician's advice, mi'lady. He was very happy to notice you'd stopped writing to those men. I heard him tell his brother-in-law that the advice had been sound. You were letting your past go."

"The physicians advised him?"

"I believe so, Lady Victoria."

The staff apparently knew more about the workings of the family than she did. She would have to remember to ask Edward her questions in future. She would get the truth from him. She was too disheartened to continue the conversation. She thanked him once again and then went up to her bedroom.

Her father believed she'd left her past behind her—and her brothers, she thought to herself. Mary Rose hadn't forgotten, of course, and she hadn't quit writing. She'd known someone was intercepting her mail after she'd read Adam's letter asking her why she hadn't written. Thank God for Ann Marie. The sweet lady's maid was quietly making sure her letters were posted.

She was so furious she could barely form a coherent thought. She knew she was going to have to get past her anger before she even tried to talk to her father to find out why he would do such a cruel thing to her. After an hour of pacing and thinking about the situation, she decided not to talk to him at all. He would only tell her he was doing what was best for her, and God help her, if she heard those words just one more time, she thought she would start screaming and never be able to stop. Her anger wouldn't go away. She begged off going to the theater with the family that evening, giving the excuse she was tired.

A hot bath didn't soothe her nerves. She put on her nightgown and her robe and reached for her locket.

She kept the treasure in an ornately carved Oriental box on top of her dresser. She wanted to wear the locket to bed. Perhaps a good night's sleep would put everything back into perspective, and she would once again have enough stamina to be understanding.

The box was empty. Mary Rose didn't panic, at least not right away. She carefully retraced her steps around the room. She remembered she'd taken the necklace off that morning just after she'd gotten out of bed. Yes, she was certain she'd done just that. And she always put it in the little box for safekeeping during the day.

The locket had vanished. An hour later, she was tearing the bedroom apart for the second time. Harrison came home and found her on her knees looking under their bed. He collapsed into the nearest chair, stretched his legs out, and thought that if he didn't get some sleep soon, he would pass out. His mind was still reeling from the information he'd found damning MacPherson. He felt tremendous anger as well, and now that he was close to tying up all the loose ends and finally going to the authorities, the tension inside him was building to an explosive level. He was as edgy as a caged bear. Lack of sleep was surely the cause, he knew, for he doubted he'd had more than three hours' rest each night for the past week.

MacPherson was never far from Harrison's thoughts. Rage would wash over him every time he thought about how the bastard calmly worked by Elliott's side all these past years. Elliott had trusted him completely, and all that while, MacPherson had witnessed his anguish and his desolation. The son-of-a-bitch knew…

Harrison forced himself to block his thoughts. He was too agitated to go to bed right away and decided to tell his wife what he'd found out.

She hadn't noticed him yet. "I found it, sweetheart," he called out. She bumped her head when she bolted upright on her knees. "Where is it? I've looked everywhere. Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost it."

Harrison heard the panic in her voice and only then looked at her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"I don't think we're talking about the same thing. I was trying to tell you I found the discrepancy I was looking for. What have you lost?"

"My locket," she cried out. "It's disappeared."

"We'll find it. I'll help you look. Just let me get my second wind." He let out a loud yawn after giving her his promise.

"What if it was thrown away?"

He closed his eyes and began to rub his brow. "I'm sure it wasn't. Come and kiss me." She couldn't believe his cavalier attitude. "You know how important my mama's locket is to me. I think they took it. I'll never forgive them if they did. Never."

His wife was shouting. Harrison straightened in his chair, braced his elbows on his knees, and frowned at

her. He was determined not to let his weariness make him impatient.

"After a good night's sleep…"

"We have to find my locket before we go to bed."

He decided to try to put it all in perspective for her. The locket was important to her, yes, but they would eventually find it.

"Will you calm down? No one took your locket. You've simply misplaced it. That's all there is to it."

"How would you know if they took it or not? You're never here long enough to know anything that goes on."

"I've been busy," he shouted out. "I was trying to tell you…" He stopped before he went into an explanation about MacPherson. Now wasn't the time. She was too distraught to hear a word he said. He let out an expletive then. "You could be a little more understanding," he said. She staggered to her feet. She was so furious, her hands were in fists at her sides. The dam inside her burst, for it was suddenly all too much for her to endure. All those months of trying to be someone she wasn't was finally taking its toll.

"Understanding? You expect me to be understanding about their sneakery? My father takes my letters before I can mail them, and I'm supposed to be understanding? How long do you want me to be patient, Harrison? Forever? When you aren't working day and night finishing whatever in God's name you're determined to finish, you're running around looking for evidence to convict MacPherson. You've been scratching the wrong itch for months now. Oh, shame on me. I've used another expression my relatives find distasteful."

"What are you talking about? What's distasteful?"

She didn't answer him. He wouldn't understand. No one did. She turned her back on her husband and stared out into the night.

"They all love you," he assured her in a calmer tone of voice. She whirled around again. "No, they don't. They love the woman they're all creating. Do you know what Aunt Barbara told me? I'm supposed to think of myself as a blank canvas and let them create their masterpiece. They don't love me. How could they? They don't even know me. They love the idea of having Victoria back, and now everyone's trying to pretend I've lived here all my life. What about you, Harrison? Do you love me or their masterpiece?"

The implication behind her question sent him to his feet. If she wanted to argue, then by God he would accommodate her.

"I love you," he roared.

The argument didn't end there; it escalated. She was distraught and terrified by what was happening to her, and he was simply too exhausted to reason anything out. The combination was explosive.

What the hell had she meant about a canvas, for God's sake? She started shouting again when he demanded she explain. They said some unkind things to each other, though nothing that couldn't be forgiven, and when Mary Rose realized she was going to start weeping again, she pointed to the door and ordered him to leave.

He did just that. Then she got into bed and cried herself to sleep. She was awakened by her husband's fervent apology.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," he told her over and over again. She believed she could forgive him anything. She loved him and would do anything to protect him and their marriage.

They made love, each desperately needing comfort from the other, and when he was just drifting off to sleep, he heard her whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too, Victoria."

Dear God, he'd called her Victoria.

She went home two days later.

August 14, 1874

Dear Mama Rose,

I have to spend the rest of the afternoon in my bedroom as punishment because I didn't act like a lady today. I punched Tommy Bonnersmith in the nose and made him bleed. He had it coming, Mama. Cole had taken me into Blue Belle, and I'd just walked outside the general store when Tommy grabbed hold of me and planted his mushy lips on top of mine.

I didn't tell Cole what Tommy had done to me. He came outside and spotted Tommy sitting on the ground holding his nose and crying like a baby. My brother would have shot Tommy if he knew what happened and I don't want him shooting anyone else. He's getting a bad reputation. I'm not at all contrite about my behavior. Adam and Cole are always telling me I shouldn't ever let any man take liberties with me. Tommy was doing just that, wasn't he?

Are you disappointed in me?

Your loving daughter Mary Rose

Harrison returned to Lord Elliott's house just as the ship Mary Rose was on sailed for America. He didn't know she'd left, of course. No one did.

He walked into the conservatory, where Elliott sat with his assistant going over transactions.

"Where's my wife?"

Elliott looked up at Harrison and smiled. "She went shopping with her lady's maid," he answered.

"Will you excuse us, MacPherson?" Harrison asked. He clasped his hands behind his back and forced himself to look composed. He wanted to grab MacPherson by the neck and send him hurling into hell for what he'd done, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to give in to the impulse.

"Why don't you go and order some tea for us while I talk to my son-in-law?" MacPherson bowed to his employer and left the room. Harrison pulled the doors closed behind him.

"I doubt anyone will hear us talking, Harrison. Everyone's gone out for the day, and the staff is busy packing. Something's wrong, isn't it? You've got that look in your eyes."

"We have company, sir. The authorities are waiting in the hall to arrest MacPherson. God willing, they'll get him to confess everything. There's enough evidence though to convict him of embezzlement, and one way or another, the son of a bitch is going to be locked away. He's the one who planned the kidnapping."

Elliott dropped the papers he'd been holding in his hand. His mind raced to keep up with the information Harrison had given him.

He couldn't seem to take it all in. "George… George took my Victoria from me? No, no, he couldn't have. He was fully investigated, and no one found a thread of evidence to connect him to my daughter's disappearance. Now you're suggesting…"

"Douglas saw him get out of the carriage and hand the basket to a woman."

"Douglas? Who is he?"

Harrison was taken aback by the question. Dear God, Elliott didn't even know the names of her brothers.

"One of the men who raised her," he answered. "Douglas is one of her brothers in every damned way that counts. You'd better come to terms with that reality before it's too late." Elliott was so stunned by what Harrison had told him about MacPherson, he couldn't think about anything else. He didn't even notice how angry his son-in-law was becoming.

"There was embezzlement?"

"You've been making donations to an orphanage that doesn't exist. The place did exist at the time Victoria was taken, of course, but it closed a couple of years later. I doubt any of your money ever got past MacPherson's pockets."

"But embezzlement and kidnapping are two different…"

"MacPherson was behind it, sir. There isn't any doubt."

Elliott doubled over in pain. He was so sickened by the truth, he thought he was going to throw up. He desperately tried to compose himself.

"Give me a minute, son, just a minute," he whispered.

Harrison sat down beside him and put his hand on Elliott's shoulder. He didn't say a word, but patiently waited for the man to sort it all out in his mind.

It only took Elliott a short while to calm down enough to want to know everything.

"Start at the beginning and don't stop until you've told me everything."

"We know MacPherson took a large sum of money from one of your accounts the day before your daughter was kidnapped. He took Victoria late the following night, and delivered her to the nursemaid. I suppose the money he'd stolen was for the woman to use to support herself and the baby while he milked as much ransom out of you as he could. The papers he'd taken from the Bible were probably going to be sent back to you as proof he had your daughter."

"But what happened? We never received a ransom demand… just that first note…"

"It all went sour on MacPherson," Harrison said. "That's what happened, sir. Douglas told me the woman didn't want to take the basket. He saw her shake her head at MacPherson, but her mind was changed when he produced the envelope full of money and waved it front of her eyes."

"And then?"

"The nursemaid got cold feet, and after MacPherson left, she found the nearest alley and threw Victoria into a pile of garbage. Then she ran away."

"Can you prove all of this, Harrison?"

"I can prove he embezzled, sir. It's enough to put him away for the rest of his life. Douglas insists he'd recognize MacPherson today. I'm not so sure myself, but I think your assistant will be convinced by the authorities to talk."

"If the nursemaid hadn't had second thoughts, would I have gotten my daughter back? No… no, of course I wouldn't have. He would have killed her, wouldn't he?"

"Probably," Harrison agreed.

Elliott began to shake with fury. "All these past years that monster has been sitting by my side, calmly acting as though…"

He couldn't go on. Harrison nodded with understanding. "Sir, it was damned clever of him. He must have been in a real panic when the nursemaid and the baby disappeared. He didn't bolt though. He stayed right where he was. How better to control the investigation than to be in the center of it? As long as he continued to work for you, he could see whatever came across your desk before you did." Elliott suddenly bounded to his feet and rushed toward the door. "I'm going in there and I'm going to…"

Harrison stopped him by grabbing hold of his arm. "No, you aren't going anywhere. They've already taken him away. I know what you want to do, and it's all right to think it, but you can't kill him." He gently led Elliott back to the settee and helped him sit down. He didn't leave his side for a long, long while, until he was convinced Elliott was under control and wouldn't do anything he would regret. Harrison had wanted to talk to him about his own plans for the future, but he realized now wasn't the time to burden the man with anything more. He would have to wait until later to tender his resignation. He went up to the bedroom so he could spend some time alone to think about exactly what he wanted to say to his wife. The words had to be right, and if he needed to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness for all the pain he had inadvertently caused her, then he would do just that. Elliott didn't know the names of her brothers. The realization still staggered him. In the name of love and fatherhood, he had deliberately tried to erase her past and mold her into the daughter he wanted. What must Mary Rose be feeling now, and how had she endured all of their insufferable righteousness?

Her note was waiting for him on top of the desk. A feeling of dread came over him the minute he saw it, and he was almost afraid to touch it.

He read her farewell three times before he reacted. And then anguish such as he had never known before welled up inside him until it consumed him. He bowed his head and gave in to the pain, welcomed it because he had no one to blame but himself, and now it was too late. He had lost her.

Harrison didn't have any idea how long he stood there holding the note, but the room was cast in shadows when he finally moved. Edward was pounding on the door and shouting the request to please come downstairs. Lord Elliott needed him.

He almost didn't answer the summons, and then he realized he had quite a lot to say to his father-in-law. He no longer gave a damn if the man understood. Harrison still needed to talk to him about his daughter. Elliott was standing in front of the fireplace. He was looking down at the note in his hands.

"Did my wife say good-bye to you too?"

Elliott slowly nodded. "She had everything," he whispered. "Why wasn't she happy? Did you know she was planning to leave? Harrison, I don't understand. She says… here, let me read it. The last line… yes, here it is. I love you, Father, and I think if you got to know me, you might love me too." Elliott lifted his head again. "I do love her."

"Yes, you love her, but from the moment you took her into your arms and welcomed her, you've been trying to change her. You don't have any idea what you've lost, do you? I suggest you sit down while I introduce you to your daughter. I think I'll start with Corrie," he added. "Crazy Corrie. You haven't heard of her before, have you, sir? No, of course you haven't. You wouldn't have listened. You will now though. I'm determined to make you understand."

Elliott walked over to the sofa and sat down. He couldn't make himself let go of his daughter's farewell note, and so he continued to hold on to it.

Harrison talked about the friendship between the two women. Elliott blanched when he heard the description of what the recluse looked like. Tears came into his eyes a short while later when Harrison recounted how Corrie reached through the open window to stroke his daughter's shoulder.

"Her compassion for those in pain humbles me," Harrison added. "I think maybe that's why she put up with us for so long. God, I kept telling her to be more understanding, to give you time to accept her. You weren't ever going to accept who she was though, were you? You can't make it go away, sir. It all happened. Those men are her family. Your daughter plays the piano and speaks fluent French. You should be damned proud of her."

It was too late in the day for Harrison to put his own plans into action, and so he stayed with Elliott well into the night and told him most of what he knew about her background. They were given privacy. Lillian had tried to intrude, but her brother's harsh command to get out sent her running.

"A father's love should be unconditional," Elliott whispered. "But I…" He couldn't go on. He began to weep and buried his face in his hands. Harrison handed him his handkerchief.

"Every morning she would sit with me and listen to me talk about the family. She never talked about her friends."

"You wouldn't let her."

Elliott bowed his head. "No, I wouldn't let her. Dear God, what have I done? What have I done?" Harrison was drained both physically and emotionally. He couldn't give Elliott the compassion he probably needed now.

"I quit."

"You what?"

"I quit, sir. I've finished up all the work you gave me. It was deliberate, wasn't it? You wanted time alone with your daughter and so you had me running back and forth across the country. I don't blame you. I was so damned busy trying to repay the debt I owe you, I let it happen. That's why I've been so obsessed about MacPherson," he added with a nod. "But it's finished," he whispered. "If you'll excuse me now, I'm going upstairs and pack."

"Where are you going?"

Harrison didn't answer him until he reached the doors. "I'm going home."

Adam Clayborne was going to be tried for murder. Harrison found out about the atrocity when he reached the livery stable. He'd planned to purchase a wagon and two horses so he could cart his possessions to Blue Belle, but once the old man who ran the place started telling him what was going on, Harrison's plans drastically changed.

"Yes, sir, we're going to have us a hanging. Two fancy-dressed southern boys brung their lawyer with them. I heard tell they expect Hanging Judge Burns to hand Adam over to them so they can haul him back down where he came from to stand trial, but folks around here don't believe the judge will cotton to the notion. He'll want to try the man hisself or get hung for disappointing everyone. That's why my place is half deserted today. Come tomorrow, everything will be shut down tight. Folks will make a day of it in Blue Belle; treat it like a holiday. Some will picnic while they watch him swing, others will cheer. The women will mostly cry I reckon. Anyway, dancing won't start in until sundown. It's going to be a big shindig and you ought not to miss it."

Harrison had heard all he needed to know. He quickly purchased a horse, tossed twenty dollars at the old man and asked him to hire someone to cart his things for him.

He had just saddled the black horse when the old man said, "I can see from your hurry you don't want to miss it. You got time," he assured him. "I ain't leaving for another couple of hours. I'll bring your things down for you. Might as well earn me twenty dollars as not."

"Adam Clayborne's innocent." After making the statement, Harrison swung up into the saddle.

"Don't make no matter. He's a blackie and them two accusing him are white. Clayborne's going to hang all right."

The old man turned around and only then realized he'd been talking to thin air. Harrison had already taken off.

He rode toward Blue Belle at a neckbreaking pace, for he was terrified of what might have already happened. He had to stop the momentum before it got completely out of hand. He'd never seen a lynching mob before, but he'd read enough vivid descriptions about them to send chills of dread shooting down his spine. He didn't have any idea what he could do to save Adam, but with God's help, he would find something. Legal or otherwise.

Harrison wouldn't allow himself to think about Mary Rose and what she must be going through. He forced himself to center his thoughts on Adam. He had known there was something lurking in his background, but Adam hadn't told him what it was.

Murder? He couldn't imagine the soft-spoken man killing anyone without just cause. Although Harrison wasn't much of a praying man, he pleaded to God for His assistance. He was so damned scared.

Don't let it be too late. Don't let it be too late.

The hearing took place in the empty storefront across the road from Morrison's store. The room was packed to capacity. Mary Rose sat at the table on one side of her brother. Travis was seated on his opposite side. Douglas and Cole were both outside. They hadn't been allowed in because the judge was concerned about tempers getting out of hand.

Adam's accusers sat at a table across from the Claybornes. There were three of them in all. One lawyer and two vile, disgusting reptiles who called themselves Livonia's kin. Mary Rose couldn't stand to look at either of them.

Judge Burns was pounding his gavel and ordering everyone to shut the hell up or he'd make all the spectators leave. Mary Rose was in such a daze of disbelief, she could barely understand a word the judge said.

Everyone outside of Blue Belle had all turned against her brother. All of them. As quickly as one could snap his fingers, they'd turned from smiling acquaintances into a group of angry vigilantes. Adam had helped most of the men inside the courtroom. His kindness and his generosity meant nothing to any of them now. He was black, and the man he supposedly killed was white. No one needed to hear anything more. Adam was guilty, regardless of circumstances. If the mob could have taken him outside and crucified him, Mary Rose believed they would.